


How He Truly Felt

by AgentOklahoma



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-05
Updated: 2014-08-05
Packaged: 2018-02-11 20:46:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,322
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2082594
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AgentOklahoma/pseuds/AgentOklahoma
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>So I saw a video on my dashboard and since I’ve been bingeing Red vs Blue, I felt that one of my OTP (WashMaine) playing the violin was a glorious thing. Also singing. I want singing. ALL THE MUSICAL TALENT!</p><p>(I recommend, if you want the music that inspired this, either listen to the Dead Island trailer, the Lindsay Stirling accompaniment for ‘All of Me’ or ‘Adagio in G Minor’ by Tomaso Albinoni)</p>
            </blockquote>





	How He Truly Felt

How He Truly Felt

So I saw a video on my dashboard and since I’ve been bingeing Red vs Blue, I felt that one of my OTP (WashMaine) playing the violin was a glorious thing. Also singing. I want singing. ALL THE MUSICAL TALENT!

(I recommend, if you want the music that inspired this, either listen to the Dead Island trailer, the Lindsay Stirling accompaniment for ‘All of Me’ or ‘Adagio in G Minor’ by Tomaso Albinoni)

**_ RVB-RVB-RVB-RVB-RVB-RVB-RVB-RVB-RVB-RVB-RVB-RVB-RVB-RVB-RVB-RVB-RVB-RVB-RVB-RVB-RVB-RVB-RVB-RVB-RVB-RVB-RVB-RVB-RVB- _ **

The freelancers started hearing things.

Not in a ‘we’re going insane’ way. It was definitely real because the normal soldiers talked about it on occasion as well as the Counsellor. The Director mentioned it once but only in passing when the sound was echoing through the halls.

It was music.

Not full songs or anything. Bits and pieces of music, both contemporary and classical. The only common factor was that all the music was made by a single violin. No one knew where it was coming from and all the freelancers tried their absolute hardest to figure it out. They tried moving as stealthily as they could through the halls, getting closer and closer to the source, but it always cut off when they were within reach.

“Where the hell is it coming from?” South asked, sitting on the couch in the break room with her head in her hands, tugging lightly at her hair in frustration.

“Somewhere in the dorms. The last four times I’ve tried finding it, it stopped just as I entered the Freelancer housing wing so it’s one of us,” Carolina replied, pointing out a map they had placed on the table, marks all over it showing where they had ruled out.

“So you’ve ruled out all but 48 people. 42 assuming everyone right here in this room is not the musician,” York piped up. “That narrows it down,” he added on sarcastically.

“I’ve narrowed it down to just the people on our floor. The Freelancer wing is made up of a number of floors, none of which have the music as strongly as ours. So it has to be one of the top group. Since the only people that haven’t said a word about it are on that floor, it must be one of those two,” Carolina countered.

“Who?” North asked, looking at the rooms of their floor, trying to recall who hadn’t spoken about the music.

“Washington and Maine,” she replied.

“Maine doesn’t talk anyway. Its got to be Washington, doesn’t it? He seems like the musical type,” South theorised. The group nodded silently at each other. It was time. All of their training would be needed in order to pull this off.

**_ RVB-RVB-RVB-RVB-RVB-RVB-RVB-RVB-RVB-RVB-RVB-RVB-RVB-RVB-RVB-RVB-RVB-RVB-RVB-RVB-RVB-RVB-RVB-RVB-RVB-RVB-RVB-RVB-RVB-RVB-RVB-RVB-RVB- _ **

“Alpha, in position,” Carolina whispered into her comm unit, standing outside of Washington’s dorm room, the music playing as clearly as she’s ever heard it. “Target is definitely in his bunk,” she added.

“Beta and Gamma in position, waiting for your command,” North added, he and South hanging from a rope outside, just above Wash’s dorm room window, waiting to drop down to see their target.

“Delta too,” York piped up from the ventilation shaft.

“Epsilon and Zeta are not participating. There are no more hiding places,” Wyoming called over the comm while he and Florida were hanging out in the break room.

“Fine, miss the party. Alright, on my mark people,” Carolina ordered, everyone tensing in anticipation. “Three. Two. One. Mark!” she called, sprinting to the door and opening it before the music stopped. At the same time, the hatch to the ventilation shaft opened and North and South burst in through the window, having made sure they were unlatched during dinner so no damage was done.

But what they saw was not what they were expecting.

“What the hell are you guys doing?”

 _Hiss, growl_.

Washington wasn’t playing.

Maine was.

Washington was curled up in his bed, sitting up now with an irritated/horrified look on his face with Maine standing beside the bed, a violin on his shoulder and a bow in his hand, a blank expression on his face that screamed ‘ _I haven’t processed this horrifying development just yet, wait for my brain to stop self-destructing’_.

“Holy. Shit. Maine? It was fucking Maine?!” South shouted while everyone else was still gathering their wits. Maine finally managed to collect his enough to sprint out of the room, faster than anyone thought the mass of muscle could, with what appeared to be flushed cheeks.

“You assholes. You just couldn’t leave it alone, could you,” Wash snapped, getting off his bed and rounding on his friends.

“We wanted to know, you could have told us,” Carolina attempted feebly, not at all like her normally dominant self.

“ _He was embarrassed!_ You guys all think he’s this big musclebound stoic guy that only knows how to break stuff but he’s great at other things. And from South’s reaction, you thought it was me. Didn’t even occur to you that Maine could be great at something other than fighting, huh?” Wash ranted while the others shuffled uncomfortably.

“Why do you think he didn’t come forward about it?” Wash continued while the others took their well-deserved verbal beating. “His playing is personal. He doesn’t want people knowing that about him. I only found out because we’re-“ he cut himself off with a clench of his jaw.

“You’re... _You’re together! Holy fuckity fuckington!”_ South shouted, apparently at the limit of her ‘shit she couldn’t call in a million years’ gauge.

“Yeah, we are. Got a problem?” Washington snapped, effectively silencing her. “Anything else extremely personal you want to know? Want to know how often we fuck or who’s top or bottom? Huh?” he continued. South cautiously raised her hand while York, very brazenly, lifted his as well.

“I’m damn curious.”

“ _Shut up York!”_ David said, pointing at the door. “Now get out while I try to keep my boyfriend from trashing his violin or jumping out the window, you jackasses,” Wash ordered and the others sprinted out as quickly as possible but all agreeing that they never spoke of this to anyone.

**_ RVB-RVB-RVB-RVB-RVB-RVB-RVB-RVB-RVB-RVB-RVB-RVB-RVB-RVB-RVB-RB-RVB-RVB-RVB-RVB-RVB-RVB-RVB-RVB-RVB-RVB-RVB- _ **

“Maine? Maine, it’s me. Can I come in?” Wash called, gently rapping on the door. Silence. Then the door clicked open just enough for Wash to enter. The blonde marine stepped in, the door shutting immediately with Maine standing behind it, his violin and bow clutched in his free hand.

“Baby, you have nothing to be embarrassed about. Your playing is amazing. They just wanted to know who it was. Admittedly, they did it in the worst fashion but it’s just because you’re brilliant at it,” Wash reassured, taking Maine’s hand in his and rubbing his thumb over the back soothingly.

Maine growled in his normal way, a hint of shyness to it that had Wash pulling Maine over to the bed and sitting him down.

“Don’t you dare give it up. I haven’t heard it enough. And the others can fuck off. Plus, do you think they’d tease you about this? _You?_ They’d be flattened in a second. Either by you or me,” Wash joked, giving Maine an eskimo kiss which was changed into a deep, slow kiss, forcing Maine to put his instrument down.

**_ RVB-RVB-RVB-RVB-RVB-RVB-RVB-RVB-RVB-RVB-RVB-RVB-RVB-RVB-RVB-RVB-RVB-RVB-RVB-RVB-RVB-RVB-RVB-RVB-RVB-RVB-RVB- _ **

Maine did play more often and even in front of the other Freelancers. After they all apologised for being assholes and begged him to, at least.

Everyone sat in the break room, curled up on the couch, chairs and even the floor or on the kitchenette counters, watching Maine stand by the windows, playing whatever song seemed to come to mind, with Wash sitting closest, right by the window so he was right there in case Maine got self-conscious. The Director and the Counsellor even showed up, standing in the doorway while Maine played.

But Maine was only really playing for Wash. He couldn’t speak so this was the next best way to say how he truly felt.


End file.
